


Mandy Sepha

by RandomWordsAndStormyDays



Series: Random's Fallout OCs [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: A woman literally gets her tongue cut out so like..., Attempted Rape, Character Death, Child Abuse, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Original Character Death(s), don't read if you can't handle that, there's also a lot of raiders, who talk like raiders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 21:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomWordsAndStormyDays/pseuds/RandomWordsAndStormyDays
Summary: This is a collection of all the little one-shots and ficlets for my OC Mandy. There's a description of what each chapter is about before each one.





	1. The One Where Mandy Loses Her Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter we follow Mandy from a kid being a slave under the raider, up until the day someone cuts out her tongue.

“I expect to see these crops harvested and prepared by sundown. Do you understand?”

Mandy nods her head, being sure to keep her gaze away from the man’s face. Eye contact isn’t allowed. At age 12, Mandy has learned the radier’s rules, which ones need to be followed to the letter, and which ones she can break with minimal consequences. Direct acknowledgment is not one she can get away with.

“Good. Now go.”

With no hesitation Mandy takes off for the fields, making sure to watch her footing so she doesn’t accidentally trample over the freshly budding tato plants. If she ruined them she’d be in a lot of trouble. The other slaves have already begun the days harvest, but that morning Mandy had been on water collection duty, which means the easy part of her day has already been done. When she was younger the others helped her so that she didn’t fall behind, they would help her dig and plant, often times cutting their own deadlines close. Now, however, she’s old enough to fend for herself, and with no parents to speak of, she really is alone.

It’s nearly the end of the day when she finishes shucking the last of the corn. Her fingers are bruised from the digging she had to do with her bare hands, but the pain she feels doesn’t matter when her eyes fall on the forgotten basket of razorgrain.

Terror claws at her throat, stealing her breath and sending her into a panic. There’s not nearly enough time to strip the grain before sundown. Desperately she glances around, searching for someone to help her, but no one is near, they’ve all gone in for their evening duties. Mandy doesn’t know what to do. Does she try and finish her taskings, or does she go inside and do her nighttime chores?

In the end she decides to try and finish, she can feel the heat of tears as they try and escape, blurring her vision and making her job more difficult. She’s nearly full on sobbing by the time her handler shows, fury visible on his face. Before she can even think to come up with an excuse he’s grabbing her by the throat and lifting her onto her feet.

With the combination of his hand and her emotional distress she finds that she can’t breathe. Fear trickles into her mind as the edges of her vision start to blur and turn black. The raider is yelling at her, distantly she hears his voice, but he sounds far away, like he’s standing at the end of a tunnel. Then, suddenly, the pressure is gone and she’s gasping for air as she lies on the ground. There’s a sharp pain as his foot meets her stomach, and she swears a rib cracks, but the pain there is nothing compared to her throat and lungs as they desperately try and get her the oxygen she needs.

“-you don’t get off the fucking floor right this second I’ll fucking kill you.” His words register quickly and Mandy manages enough wits to get onto her feet. Then a hand is in her hair, dragging her towards the barn. She doesn’t dare struggle, or call out in pain. Her breathing isn’t easy and the pain in her ribs is fracturing out, desperately she hopes nothing has broken.

The doors open and she’s not at all surprised to see a group of raiders sitting around the campfire, rage and delight mixed in their expressions. That night they beat her so badly she can’t move for three days.

Seven years later and Mandy is thriving under her new owners. She’s been with them for four years and even through they’re raiders, they treat her just fine. Punishments are few and far between, and she’s old enough to keep up with the steady workflow. The ease of the rules has made her rebellious, snarky, sarcastic. She gets away with it under Lytle, he’s strict and demanding, but at the same time he’s understanding and kind. The raiders he keeps treat her more as a worker than a slave, and she has his influence to thank.

The horrors of her childhood haven’t been forgotten, but the wounds - both physical and mental - have been allowed to heal in this new environment. Gouges that went to the bone, ones she never imagined would ever heal, have shrunk down to tiny cuts and scrapes, there, but easily pushed past. Never would she have ever guessed that she’d be happy as a slave, but she’s as close as she can get.

The day she wakes to find Lytle dead is the worst of her life, so far.

The group of raiders that wake her, still covered in his blood, remind her so much of her old owners that she finds herself flinching away from them. She doesn’t put up a fight as they steal her from what she’s come to think of as her home, but her legs give out when she sees the state of Lytle’s body. What’s left of it.

The laugh at her as she cries, call her a whore, a raider’s slut, ask her if he was a good lay while he was alive. She doesn’t bother to tell them that Lytle never touched her, that he treated her less like a slave and more like a daughter. Instead she cries, trying to force the image of his bloody and broken body from her mind. It doesn’t work, and she’s left shivering and sobbing as they thrust her into the back of a cart.

At 19, Mandy finds herself back under the ownership of a group of angry, violent, abusive, and dangerous raiders. She disgusted with how easy it is to fall back into her old habits, her cowering, the fear, an inability to look someone in the eye. Two weeks into her new job, she makes a mistake.

Under Lytle and his gang she was allowed to speak her mind, tease the group a little, offer her ideas. She forgets that she can’t do that here.

Findley, her newest owner, is planning an operation for taking over a rival gang’s territory. Mandy is off to the side of the room, trying to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible. However, she can’t help but listen in.

“I say we go around the tunnels, try and flank them.”

Before she can stop herself she’s snorting quiet laughter. “Sounds like a good way to get yourselves killed.”

The silence that rings out is like a punch to the gut, and she can feel the air whip out of her. This is not good.

“What did you say?” The question comes from who she has worked out to be Findley’s second in command, Logan.

She turns slowly, careful to look at the floor. “Nothing, I said nothing.”

Logan’s face twists as he squints his eyes at her, obviously angry at her denial. “Don’t fucking talk again.”

“Now hold on.” Findley rises from his chair to stand between her and Logan. “If the girl has something to say, maybe we should listen.” There isn’t a person in the room that doesn’t throw him an incredulous and confused look. It’s completely out of character for him, and that makes nervousness clump in her stomach like a rock. He turns to her, “speak.”

It is not a request.

Still, she has trouble finding her voice. It comes out quiet, even to her own ears, “I was only saying that-”

“Speak up,” Findley shouts, causing her to jolt back, “you wanted to be heard, well, we’re listening.”

Mandy swallows, feeling the fear as it climbs up her throat. All of the raiders are looking at her and she hates it, she just wants to fade into the shadows. Still, she won’t disobey him. “Going around the sewers isn’t a good idea. There are snipers in the buildings surrounding it. They’d kill you before you even saw them.” A few heads tilt at that information, it’s not something she should know, she answers their questions without being asked. “I used to work under the group you’re going against. I know their hiding spots, and while the tunnels have ferals, they’re a lot safer than the streets.”

Findley’s eyes shine as she speaks, clearly delighted. It terrifies her. “Well, well, looks like it was a good thing she spoke up, isn’t it boys?” The raiders all nod their heads enthusiastically. When he turns back to her the delight is gone, replaced with an icy hatred. “Too bad you spoke out of turn, slave.”

There’s no chance for her to run, or fight back, as Findley jumps forward, catching her by the hair and tossing her to the floor. Her skull cracks against the floor with a sickening thud and she immediately feels light-headed, but doesn’t pass out. His knees crush her arms and his ankles hold down her hips. She can’t move anything but her legs. As soon as she realises that, a pair of hands wrap around her ankles, pinning her to the ground.

His hand wraps around her jaw, squeezing so hard she knows there will be bruises. “Do you know what I do to snarky little girls who speak out of turn?” A thousand images of what he could do to her flash though Mandy’s mind, none seem plausible, but all possible. He sneers, leaning is so close she can smell his disgusting breath. “I make sure they can never speak again.”

At first, she thinks that he means to kill her, then he pops open her mouth with one filthy hand and reaches for his knife with the other. Too late she realizes what is about to happen. In her desperation she goes to bite down on his hand, anything to keep the sharp steel from entering her mouth. All this does is make him mad, and his fingers tighten over her jaw, forcing her teeth to part.

An animal like scream tears from her as the serrated edge meets her flesh and a white hot pain stems from her mouth and crests down over her entire body. Her exclamations of pain are drowned out as blood fills her mouth and begin to trickle down her throat. Coughs tear from her as her body tries to expel the liquid that’s pooling, it sprays over Findley’s face, but he doesn’t seem to care. The last thing she sees before she passes out is his face, covered in blood, smirking down at her.

When she wakes up, she’s still on the floor, but the room is empty and she’s alone. Judging from the blood that hasn’t yet dried on her skin or the floor, she hasn’t been unconscious for long.

Then she sees it. Her tongue.

The taste of iron and dirt is no longer present in her mouth, in fact, she can’t taste anything. She goes to speak, to scream, to call for help, but no words come out, only muffled gargles that send her into tears. Alone in the room Mandy cries, she cries until there are no more tears, then, on unsteady legs, she lifts herself off the ground and makes her way to what passes for a doctor around here.

When she enters the medbay Deborah, a slave medic, turns to her. “How can I-” Her face pales when she looks over Mandy. “My god, what did they do to you?”

There’s not even enough energy in her to cry. She goes to speak, before remembering that she can’t. And, oh, look at that, she does have a few more tears. Deborah rushes over to her, already brandishing a wet cloth. As she wipes away the blood and tears she asks questions that go unanswered, until finally Mandy steps back and points to her mouth.

Confusion quickly turns to understanding which then morphs into horror. Mandy can see her own tears reflected in Deborah’s face. “Oh, my poor child.” The older woman wraps Mandy in her arms, holding her tightly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” They stay like that for a long time until Deborah pulls back. There’s sadness and sympathy reflected in her eyes. “I need to take a look.” Mandy can only nod.

The whole procedure of inspecting, cleaning, and treating is done in less than 10 minutes, yet Mandy feels like it’s been hours. She wants to sleep. As if reading her mind Deborah points at a cot. “They left to go attack that other gang, they won’t be back for a few hours. Stay here, I’ll go clean up and finish your taskings for today.” Mandy goes to argue but Deborah is persistent. “You’re in no state to work, stay here and rest.”

Every night for the next three weeks she relives the experience. Sleep is no reprieve from the waking world, night and day are nightmares just the same.

23 days after he takes her tongue, Mandy decides on her revenge.

It’s not something she had planned out, wasn’t anything she thought about or considered, but when the opportunity to get back at Findley for what he did presents itself, she doesn’t pass it up.

Disgustingly, she’s on her knees in front of him, cleaning the blood and mud off of his boots. It’s her first time alone with him since the incident, and fear tarnishes her every move. Every little flinch, breath, sound, that he makes has her shying away. He notices.

“You know, slave, now that you’re not talking back or causing trouble, I’ve realized that you’re very pretty.” Her words have bile rising in her throat, but she swallows it back. She can feel herself trembling as he traces a hand over her jaw, running his fingers over the ghost of the bruises that he left on her. When he tightens his grip her mind freezes, reliving the moment when he did the same thing a few weeks ago. “I love when a woman looks scared, terrified,” he licks a stripe up the side of her face and she has to force herself to stay still, “makes me want to break them even more.”

Too many emotions are piling up inside her chest, crushing her like an overturned wall. It’s then that she sees the knife.

At first, it scares her. Seeing the sharp object that separated her from her tongue isn’t what she wanted to do today, but then an idea forms. If she could get the knife from him… her thought process is cut off as he jerks her head to the side and bites at her ear. A hiss of pain forces itself past her lips before she can stop it, but Findley looks delighted.

Mandy lets him maneuver her off the ground and onto his lap. There’s nothing much she can do, she has to play the game, just long enough for him to let his guard down.

“Normally, I’d make you blow me,” his mouth splits into a vile grin, “but I can’t imagine what that would feel like without a tongue, less fun I’m betting. Plus,” he adds, as he forces her to look down, “I can’t trust you not to bite off the goods.”

Somehow she manages to keep the disgust and hurt off of her face.

By the time her opportunity comes he’s out of his clothes and she’s trying to keep hers on. He’s fighting with her jeans when her moment arises. By this time Findley has gotten her onto the floor, leaning over her, with his own clothes scattered near her hip. The reflection of the lights off the knife’s edge catches her eye, and before she can hesitate she connects her knee with his face.

He’s clearly not expecting the blow because his neck cracks back and he yelps out. In a flash she has her hand on the knife and she whips it behind her, catching Findley on the chest. Dark red blood starts to seep from his cut, but she doesn’t even notice it as she uses all of her weight to crash down and knock him to the floor.

There’s shock all over his face, but she doesn’t even take a second to be proud of that before she plunges the blade into his neck. His scream dies before it can fully form, and she watches as the life drains out of him.

When his gurgling finally stops she removes the knife, eerily delighted as the blood runs down her arm.

For the first time since Lytle was murdered Mandy feels calm. She doesn’t rush as she cleans herself and fixes her clothing. Nothing but delight and calmess flows through her as she makes her escape. A slight pang of regret resonates in her chest when she thinks about Deborah and the other slaves, but she shoves it aside. If they wanted to escape they could fight their way out themselves.

Something inside of her has changed, Findley’s death brought peace with it and she inhales deeply, feeling the radiation tinged air. Freedom, for the first time since she was a little girl. She turns towards where she knows Lytle’s farm to be. The first thing she plans on doing with her freedom is going home, after that, she’ll find her own crew. And bring what’s left of Findley’s gang to the ground.


	2. The One Where Mandy Gets Her Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows Mandy as she works to gain control of the raider gang she's a part of.

Mandy is going to kill Helios.

He’s a piss poor excuse for a crew leader, and a raider in general, and he’s made one too many comments about her tongue, or lack thereof, for her to even begin to respect him. But that’s not why he needs to die. No, she’s going to kill him because The Death Dealers have lost more members in the six months since he’s taken over than in the two years prior to his rise to power. She’s sick of having to recruit garbage raiders because he’s getting her people killed more quickly than she can find replacements. Even that chem junkie she picked up last week is better suited to run their little outfit.

So, she’s going to kill him.

It’ll be simple enough, there isn’t a single doubt in her mind that she’s smarter than him, and she’s willing to bet a whole slew of caps that she’s better in a fight, too, which is going to make this a whole lot simpler. Helios has always underestimated her, whether it be in her fighting skills, her weapons accuracy, or her intelligence. That kind of doubt will only make it easier for her to gut him. All she has to do is challenge him in the arena next week, she’ll put him down in front of the entire gang, and then claim the spot of crew leader for herself.

Most of the members already respect her, because even if their shitty leader can’t see her potential, everyone else can. In fact, just a few weeks ago, a couple of the more senior raiders were discussing who would be a better fit to take over, on the off chance that an accident befell Helios. She was eavesdropping, one of her specialties, when Kilthau dropped her name. That, combined with the overwhelming support from the rest of the group, was one of the factors that led to her decision.

Since then she’s been preparing. It wasn’t hard to take over for Ophelia in the sparring pit, and every day she spends at least two hours practicing, taking on men and women bigger than her, stronger than her, smarter than her. There isn’t a soul she hasn’t taken on by this point, except for the crew leader. And that will be rectified soon.

Kilthau approaches her two days before the arena matches while she’s on guard duty. He offers her a cigarette, which she takes but doesn’t smoke, before claiming the seat next to her at the top of the wall.

“I know what you’re planning to do,” she watches him in her peripherals but doesn’t respond, “and I want to help.”

That surprises her, she knows that he believes she should be in charge, but going against the crew leader is punishable by death. If she loses, and Helios doesn’t kill her right there and then, she won’t live much longer anyways. If it’s discovered that Kilthau helped her, he’ll die too. However, she’ll take all the help she can get, if he wants to risk his life, that’s on him, hopefully he’s not expecting her to protect him. Nothing is free, however, especially when dealing with raiders. Her eyes must convey her suspicion.

“I do want something in return, but I believe it will also be in your favor.” She nods, encouraging him to continue. “When you become crew leader, I want to be your personal bodyguard,” he laughs a little at the look on her face, “I’m getting old, Mandy, raiders don’t usually live to my age, and no I won’t tell you want that is.” That gets a very small smile from her. “You know I’m a good fighter, but every run we make, every settlement we take over, that could be my last.”

For the first time, Mandy really looks at him, and the indicators of his age are all over. He keeps his head shaved, but the coarse hairs on his chin reflect gray-white in the mid-day sun. As she stares an amused look passes over his features, revealing wrinkles by the edges of his mouth and crow’s feet by his eyes. If she had to guess she’d put him in his early forties, much too old to be a raider. It’s obvious that his intelligence is what has kept him alive, and she wonders why someone so smart, with so much potential, is wasting his life with The Death Dealers. She’s not going to ask, though.

His offer is a good one, and she’s not going to let it pass. He takes her hand when she offers it, squeezing once before letting it drop. Mandy raises one of her eyebrows up, telling him to continue.

“We all know Helios is a tank. He’s big and strong, which is why all you young kids thought it would be a good idea to put him in charge,” at her aversion to that he corrects himself, “okay, maybe not you specifically, but you understand.” So far he hasn’t said anything she doesn’t already know. “Well, what you might not have heard, is that he’s got a bad shoulder. Get your thumb or blunt weapon into the joint there and you’ll immobilize him.”

That is news to her. A weakness like that is easily abused, no wonder it’s such a closely guarded secret. She wonders how Kilthau found out. He’s on his feet before she has a chance to ask.

“I’ll see you in a few days.”

Less than 48 hours she’s staring across the arena looking Helios dead in the eye and gripping her ripper in a tight fist. He glares at her, looking at her like she’s no better than the blood drying on his boots.

“I should have known you were going to challenge me,” he sneers at her, “you’ve had it out for me since day one.” Obviously he gets no response from her. He turns to address the raiders surrounding the fighting pit. “Do you really want to follow a former slave? If she was taken before, how do you expect her to be strong enough to lead you now?”

The crowd is divided, half of them know her, respect her, and have never looked down on her because of the life she lived prior. Hell, more than a few have heard her story and congratulated her on her success. It’s not often a slave rebels, and it’s even less often that they win. Helios doesn’t respect that, doesn’t respect anyone who wasn’t born into the raider life, who had to fight tooth and nail to survive, to pass initiation, to prove themselves.

The other half are chemed out, riding the waves of artificial bliss, only loyal to the strongest, the current leader. She’ll win them over, and then they’ll cheer for her.

He faces her again, mouth twisting into an ugly grin. “You really want to follow a woman who wasn’t strong enough to stop someone from cutting out her own tongue?”

Anger pounds through her at his words, but she knows that anger will only make her sloppy, anger will get her killed.

But honestly, fuck Helios, how dare he? She was 19 when she snarked off to the wrong raider, her newest owner. He didn’t believe in second chances, and before she could do anything to make up for her words, he forced open her mouth and cut out her tongue. Now, five years later, he’s dead, killed by the same knife he used on her, and she’s alive, ready to take down another raider who thinks he’s better than her.

The memory of his blood pouring across her hand and down her arm fuels her. She’s stronger now than she was then, Helios doesn’t stand a chance. He’s still waiting for her anger, watching her like a predator, but unable to convey much more fear than she would feel when faced with a simple radroach. His face dissolves into rage when she smiles at him, bright and wide, and then flips him off. The crowd shouts their glee at her taunting and Helios’ gaze darts all around, confused by their flipping loyalty. He seems to realize that he’s not the one they want to win.

Just as that thought crosses through Mandy’s mind Helios makes his move. Even as large as he is, he moves quickly, and the distance between them is covered in just a few seconds. No matter, though, she’s ready.

Before he can complete the punch that he’s aiming at her skull, she ducks to the side, rolling and using her momentum to get away from his fist. She’s on her feet quicker than he can turn around and she uses this to her advantage. One quick kick to the back of his leg has him dropping to his knees on the floor and then another has her boot connecting with the side of his head, sending him sprawling across the ground. For a moment she considers ending him there, her ripper is ready, but it’s too quick. He hasn’t suffered enough.

The roar of the raiders registers as she takes a few steps back, letting Helios get his bearings, and their cheers encourage her. By the look in his eyes he knows that he should be dead, that she spared him for the sake of a better show. He won’t underestimate her again.

They go back and forth, passing blows between them in equal measure. He gets a solid hit to the side of her head, which rips one of her piercings out, but she returns the favor when she cuts off a chunk of his ear with her ripper. She has no idea how long they fight, but she can feel herself flagging, luckily, Helios is tired too. He takes a step, like he means to charge her again, but it’s a ruse, a ruse that she fails to notice. The ground hurts as it slams into her back, and the wind is knocked out of her, her moment of weakness has opened up a golden opportunity for Helios.

She doesn’t feel panic when his hands close around her neck, she’s been in this position more than once, she knows how to get out. Hooking her leg around his is easier than she suspected, he’s underestimating her again. The shock on his face when she flips him onto his back and knocks his hands away nearly makes her laugh out loud, instead she jabs her thumb into his shoulder joint. His yelp of pain is genuine and loud, and she takes a moment to let his whimpering mewls wash over her.

Then she slashes the ripper across his throat, silencing his screams.

His blood is hot as it sprays across her face, but she’s all smiles. Once the dark red liquid stops pouring out of him, she stands and faces the majority of the raiders. Kilthau is already down the stairs and making his way towards her. Pride is written all over his face and it makes her feel accomplished, even more so than the blood drying on her face and staining her teeth. Kilthau reaches down to grab her by the wrist and in one swift motion he lifts her arm up.

“To your new crew leader, Mandy “The Silence” Sepha! Head of The Death Dealers!”

The screams from her fellow raiders pour over her, and in that moment Mandy knows that she’s exactly where she belongs.


End file.
